


You're Still Standing Still

by MoonytheMarauder1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Rejection, Whiskey - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonytheMarauder1/pseuds/MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: "I'm not saying no. I'm saying not now."Or, Draco proposes to Percy but doesn't get the answer he was hoping for.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Percy Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	You're Still Standing Still

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! PercyDraco is an OTP of mine, but I almost always write them angst... Anyway. This story is exactly that. There's something about the simplicity of this one that I love. :)

Percy stared at the box Draco had just pushed over, his fork dangling from loose fingers. It sat open on the table and revealed a simple, unassuming gold band.

"Draco, what the actual _hell._ "

It wasn't something he'd planned to say—especially not in the face of a proposal—but the words slipped out anyway. Percy couldn't even tear his eyes away from the ring, shocked as he was. Across the table, Draco lifted an unamused brow.

"Well, I'm assuming you know what it is—"

"Of course I do," Percy interrupted, his blue eyes finally rising to his partner's face. "But why is it _here?_ "

Draco's voice was surprisingly soft when he answered. "Because I want it to be."

The insecurity would have been successfully masked if the words had been spoken to anyone but Percy. But the Gryffindor knew his lover too well to be fooled.

Exhaling slowly, Percy reached out a freckled hand and laced his fingers through Draco's. They sat there like that for a while, silent and staring at their entwined fingers. Draco's were pale and slim, unblemished by time, war—even sun.

Twenty. Draco had been on this earth for twenty years, and though Percy was only five years his senior, marrying him now almost felt like robbing him of the rest of his life.

"I've never loved anyone as much as I love you," Percy said carefully, resisting the urge to fiddle nervously with his glasses. "But… you're twenty years old, Draco. You've just begun to truly find yourself, and marrying you now would feel like I was… like I was chaining you to me. To something you might not want in ten years."

The absence of Draco's hand was startling. "You don't trust me to know my own mind?"

Percy shook his head, because that wasn't it at all. He knew that if Draco was proposing now, then it was something he'd thought about extensively. But Percy knew better than anyone that ambitions changed, and he wanted to make sure that their decision to get married wasn't a fleeting one.

Slowly, he closed the box holding the ring. It was such a romantic thing, proposing on their third anniversary; it wasn't a gesture gone unnoticed, either. "I'm not saying no," he said softly. He searched Draco's grey eyes for a sign of emotion, but the careful mask was back in place. "I'm saying not now. There's a difference, Draco."

The younger man's lips pressed into a thin line. "Right. Yes, well, I apologize for ruining the evening. I'd _thought_ we were on the same page."

Percy winced at the tightness in Draco's voice. "I love you up to the moon and back," he said quietly. "That's not going to change anytime soon."

"Then why—"

"It's not time for us Draco," Percy interrupted firmly. "It's just not." He inhaled shakily. "We have lots of time, and I don't want to rush anything."

Draco exhaled and ran a hand through his blond hair, looking as though he was trying to get a better hold on his emotions. "I need to go," he said suddenly, curtly. "Work."

Percy recognized the lie, but he nodded, even as his heart sank to his stomach. Draco stood up from the table and left their flat quickly, not even bothering to grab his cloak before shutting the door.

Percy closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to feel guilty. Logically, he knew that asking for more time before taking that next step was perfectly acceptable, but the expression on Draco's face as he'd stormed off…

Resigned to his ruined evening, Percy got up from the table to fetch a bottle of whiskey. After pouring himself a finger of the amber liquid, Percy walked into the sitting room. Exhausted to the bone, he lowered himself into an armchair and let his mind wander as he sipped at his drink.

Draco, he knew, would be at the seashore by now, looking out over black water. He wouldn't be able to see the island from where he was standing, but he'd be staring in the direction of Azkaban where Lucius Malfoy was currently imprisoned. It was where Draco always escaped to when his insecurities overwhelmed him, when something scared him, when anger filled him—when any negative emotion became too much to bear.

Percy would go get him in an hour or so, but he knew his lover needed some space at the moment. With a sigh, Percy downed the whiskey remaining in the glass.

The little box was still on the table when he left the flat.


End file.
